"Selfish Austramaddux may have been," McGonagall agreed, leaning slightly forward, "but it may not be a mistake that you were returned to this time, Merlinus. It was thought that you would lead the rebellion against the Muggle world, but if your claims are true, then you may have been brought here by an even greater providence so that you might aid us in preventing just such a tragedy. Even now, the powers of chaos have set in motion events that will lead to that end. This very day, a man resides among us, a Muggle man. He has been led here by agents of disorder, and he has bypassed our greatest defenses using a form of unmagic called 'technology'. He has access to an engine called 'the press' by which he can make known the secrets of the magical world to the rest of humanity. It is only by maintaining that secret for the past millennium that the balance of powers has existed. If this man and his secret plotters succeed, they will abuse the recombination of the magical and Muggle world. They will plot divisions, seek power, and eventually, they will spawn a war. You, more than anyone, know what the result of such a scheme would be. You must help us. Those who plot chaos are expecting you. Let them eat the fire they intended to turn upon the world, Merlinus. Aid us."

        Merlin sat perfectly still for almost a minute, his beard glistening in the sun. The animals fidgeted slightly, noses twitching and feathers ruffling. Finally, Merlin stood, and it was like watching a mountain rise from its foundation. He moved with slow, massive grace until he was fully erect, his staff held upright next to him, his piercing blue eyes settling on the Headmistress.

"You are correct, Madam," Merlin said, his voice flat and undeniable. "It was my selfish aim to leave my own age only to find a time when my power would be restored in fullness. Arrogance is my iniquity, and it has undone me. I have returned now only to find my power cut to pieces, far more than it was in my own time. I beg your forgiveness, as a man of honor, but I am both unable and unwilling to rise to the post you have described for me. This is no longer my world. Perhaps you will prevail without me. Perhaps not. I cannot see any future in this time apart from knowing that the sun will arise tomorrow and travel across the heavens as it has done for the thousand years of my absence. Whether it shines down on war or peace, truth or lies, I know not, but I do know this: it will shine upon a world that knows me not, nor I it. I take my leave of you now, Madam. I bid all of you: fare thee well."

        Merlin raised his arms, holding his staff aloft. As one, the birds on the railings and benches launched from their perches. There was a thunderous sound as hundreds of wings beat the air. When the mass of birds broke apart, streaming from the top of the tower in all directions, there was no sign of Merlin.

        James stared hard at the space where the great wizard had been standing. It was over. There was nothing left. Harry turned James around and folded him into his arms. "It's all right, son," he said. James didn't believe anything was all right, but he was glad for the words anyway. He hugged his dad back.

        "I wonder if he's really gone for good," Neville mused out loud.

        "I've no doubt he means for us to believe that," the Headmistress replied, arising from her chair on the tower platform. "But the fact of the matter is that he has nowhere to go. His servant, Austramaddux, has apparently been banished to the netherworld, thus Merlinus has no apprentice in this age to arrange for his reappearance if he should choose to step out of time again. I fear we must assume that Merlinus is with us, for better or worse. Mr. Potter, can he be tracked?"

        Harry thought for a moment. "Difficult, but not impossible. He will probably retreat to the protection of the woodlands, where his power is strongest. No doubt, he has many methods of surviving and hiding there, but a wizard of such abilities will always leave a detectable magical wake. I believe we can locate him, given a team of Aurors and enough time. The question is: what do we do with him when we find him?"

"We must secure his intent," Franklyn said somberly, slowly approaching the chair Merlin had occupied. "Merlinus is a creature of mystery and confusion. Despite his words, I sense that he himself does not trust his own allegiances. Things were much clearer in his time. Did you sense it as well? He is unsure in this age. He doesn't know who to trust, whose aims most reflect his own. This is made worse by the fact that, as you pointed out, Headmistress, Merlin's own morality is ambiguous at best. He retreats now in order to examine his own heart as much as to study the factions of this age."

        "Do you really believe that, Professor?" Harry asked.

        Franklyn had produced the same brass device he'd used to examine James' broken arm on the Quidditch pitch. He was peering through it, studying the chair Merlin had occupied. He nodded slowly. "I do. Merlin admitted to us that pride is his greatest weakness. He cannot allow us to see his own lack of surety. But there is no doubt of it. He doesn't know where he stands in this age because he doesn't know where he stands in his own heart, and only now does he realize it."

        "That doubt won't last forever, though," Neville said, stepping down the terraces toward the wooden floor. "We can hardly sit back and wait until he decides whose side to join. His power may be diminished, but I'd wager he is still unmatched by any single wizard alive today. We have to assume he is with our enemies until he determines he is our ally."

        Harry was shaking his head. "I agree that he may be unsure in this time, but I don't think he's evil. Or at least, not willfully evil."

        "What do you mean?" Zane interjected. "He's been sought after by the most evil wizards for the past thousand years or so, hasn't he?"

        "Not the most evil wizards," McGonagall said pointedly.

        "That's true," Harry agreed. "Only those who were confused or warped enough to believe their aims were good, somehow. Those who knew their hearts were evil, whose eyes were open to their own wickedness and embraced it, they never sought him. At least, as far as we know."

        "Let us repair to our offices for now," McGonagall said, sighing. "Our day has barely begun and we already have far more to manage than we rightly know how. Besides, I wish to alleviate myself of this unbearable costume as soon as possible."

        Franklyn heaved the trapdoor open and the group began to file down the steps. The animals that had gathered on the tower platform threaded down as well, scampering and hopping around the groups' feet. Slughorn and the rest of the professors gathered below greeted them with worried faces and a flurry of questions. Ignoring them, James followed his dad down the spiral steps toward the far distant floor.

        "How'd you get here so fast, Dad?" he asked. "Merlin didn't get here until the middle of the night. How'd McGonagall get hold of you so quickly?"